What do you think?
Rate this book
Down in the River: A Novel
After the death of his sixteen-year-old twin sister, Lyle Rettew moves from the mountains of Idaho to Eugene, Oregon. His religious, well-intentioned older brother has forbidden any mention of her name. But Lyle, fighting to keep his memory of her alive, has quit taking the lithium that numbs his mind, and openly rebels against his mother and brother for the first time. Taking his mourning out of the house, he embarks upon a fraught pilgrimage that is at once heartbreaking and macabre. Dark though it may be, Lyle's fevered journey along the margins of youth culture is ultimately driven by fierce love and a deep, instinctive need to find a liturgy for loss and grief.
- GenresFiction
216 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2014
3 people are currently reading
303 people want to read
About the author
Ryan Blacketter
2 books45 followers"[Ryan] has a marvelous eye for the emotional textures of the most commonplace experience, the kind that familiarity makes almost subliminal."
--Marilynne Robinson
--Marilynne Robinson
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
June 3, 2019
Set in Eugene Oregon, Down in the River brings the reader inside a distracted journey of teens on a macabre mission that mutates in the telling, becoming a bent spiritual odyssey. Driven to resolve his pain against a backdrop of crime and madness, Lyle, a 16 year old boy from a family of working-class Baptists, is recovering from the mental whiplash and pain of a twin sister commiting suicide. Her memory is banished along with her remains from the consciousness of his family yet —she reappears in dreams and waking visions. His sister was his twin in fact and in spirit. Lyle is unable to shake her presence and the sudden mystery of her death. He’s also in the grip of a bipolar mania that appears in regular intervals unless tamped down with medication.
As the book opens, a simple act of demented adolescent mischief soon takes on the quality of a hallucinated journey to the netherworld. Lyle steals the corpse of a young girl from a crypt because he believes that like his twin sister, she was laid to rest improperly. So this quixotic journey, haunted by angels and demons that are often interchangeable begins.
Blacketter’s skilled use of language envelopes the book in an atmosphere of rain and mist, you can smell the Oregon trees: “Beyond downtown, they walked along an avenue of houses built too close together. In one yard, noosed Barbie dolls hung from a tree, snow capping their heads. Next door, mannequin parts were displayed on a windowsill -- head, arm, foot. The street meandered...” (pg. 87) Trains move along the landscape intermittently, focusing the narrative and evoking the longing and searching of Lyle for a resting place, a place of resolution: “A half block up the road, flashing gates lowered at the tracks. Red lights slanted across the snow. After the horn bawled, the freight train flew into view, wheels shrieking like insane birds.” (pg. 87)
There’s a feeling of events unfolding haphazardly yet with an accelerating sense of urgency. Martin, an albino teen who has the unlikely combination of a “right wing lesbian mom” and a penchant for shooting out street lights, takes Lyle on his night journeys and eventually to the crypt where the young girl rests. Teenage bravado becomes a streetlight torchlit nightmare and the reader is held by surreality and emotional intensity. Rosa, a newly found girlfriend, becomes Lyle’s companion and she is horrified yet spellbound by their mission as it unfolds and unravels.
An illogic envelopes the wanderings of Lyle and the wise-for-her-years and cautious, yet adventurous Rosa. Blacketter’s ear for teenage banter feels accurate, there’s a profundity and an aimless quality to their discussions, a guilelessness, an earnest yet cynical attentiveness to the world. Stuck in the chaos of family, with a father who has had breakdowns yet is also protective and close to her, Rosa is drawn to Lyle’s fantasies and into meth fueled conversations that carry on for days as they crisscross Eugene looking for a place of reconciliation and rest for both themselves and Lyle’s secret package.
Lyle is carrying the corpse of the girl as he travels with the memory of his twin sister. His struggle with mania is drawn without judgement, from the inside looking out. Rosa provides a wiser, guiding hand though she’s also struggling with family demons. Along the way the pair encounter homeless people near a river, including an old woman who rises out of the river mist like a gatekeeper revealing secrets: “From the trees below came the woman’s voice: “Quiet down! Keep walking or I’ll come after you. I'll cut you!”
“Oh, why don’t you be nice for once in your gross, old life!” Rosa called.
The woman rose and bulked up the trail, stooping, them climbed in their direction. The bag on her head glinted in the light.” (pg. 91)
Later there’s a Catholic priest in a wheelchair with a bookshelf full of fantasy and science fiction, and a woman who owns an inn that she opens to the runaway teens under pretext of mistaken identity. Blacketter doesn’t create any obvious allegory though the characters all feel weighted with an archetypal magic. Events unfold in an incidental amplification of inner conflicts. Like life, there’s no going back once a door is opened and another is closed.
There are finally no easy endings in this book although hope and freedom may be approaching as Rosa and Lyle hit escape velocity and exit Oregon, police and family racing to catch them. Blacketter has created an outsider story of adolescence that left me wanting to know more, to travel more with his characters; I felt connected to them as they opened my eyes to new forms of chaos.
As the book opens, a simple act of demented adolescent mischief soon takes on the quality of a hallucinated journey to the netherworld. Lyle steals the corpse of a young girl from a crypt because he believes that like his twin sister, she was laid to rest improperly. So this quixotic journey, haunted by angels and demons that are often interchangeable begins.
Blacketter’s skilled use of language envelopes the book in an atmosphere of rain and mist, you can smell the Oregon trees: “Beyond downtown, they walked along an avenue of houses built too close together. In one yard, noosed Barbie dolls hung from a tree, snow capping their heads. Next door, mannequin parts were displayed on a windowsill -- head, arm, foot. The street meandered...” (pg. 87) Trains move along the landscape intermittently, focusing the narrative and evoking the longing and searching of Lyle for a resting place, a place of resolution: “A half block up the road, flashing gates lowered at the tracks. Red lights slanted across the snow. After the horn bawled, the freight train flew into view, wheels shrieking like insane birds.” (pg. 87)
There’s a feeling of events unfolding haphazardly yet with an accelerating sense of urgency. Martin, an albino teen who has the unlikely combination of a “right wing lesbian mom” and a penchant for shooting out street lights, takes Lyle on his night journeys and eventually to the crypt where the young girl rests. Teenage bravado becomes a streetlight torchlit nightmare and the reader is held by surreality and emotional intensity. Rosa, a newly found girlfriend, becomes Lyle’s companion and she is horrified yet spellbound by their mission as it unfolds and unravels.
An illogic envelopes the wanderings of Lyle and the wise-for-her-years and cautious, yet adventurous Rosa. Blacketter’s ear for teenage banter feels accurate, there’s a profundity and an aimless quality to their discussions, a guilelessness, an earnest yet cynical attentiveness to the world. Stuck in the chaos of family, with a father who has had breakdowns yet is also protective and close to her, Rosa is drawn to Lyle’s fantasies and into meth fueled conversations that carry on for days as they crisscross Eugene looking for a place of reconciliation and rest for both themselves and Lyle’s secret package.
Lyle is carrying the corpse of the girl as he travels with the memory of his twin sister. His struggle with mania is drawn without judgement, from the inside looking out. Rosa provides a wiser, guiding hand though she’s also struggling with family demons. Along the way the pair encounter homeless people near a river, including an old woman who rises out of the river mist like a gatekeeper revealing secrets: “From the trees below came the woman’s voice: “Quiet down! Keep walking or I’ll come after you. I'll cut you!”
“Oh, why don’t you be nice for once in your gross, old life!” Rosa called.
The woman rose and bulked up the trail, stooping, them climbed in their direction. The bag on her head glinted in the light.” (pg. 91)
Later there’s a Catholic priest in a wheelchair with a bookshelf full of fantasy and science fiction, and a woman who owns an inn that she opens to the runaway teens under pretext of mistaken identity. Blacketter doesn’t create any obvious allegory though the characters all feel weighted with an archetypal magic. Events unfold in an incidental amplification of inner conflicts. Like life, there’s no going back once a door is opened and another is closed.
There are finally no easy endings in this book although hope and freedom may be approaching as Rosa and Lyle hit escape velocity and exit Oregon, police and family racing to catch them. Blacketter has created an outsider story of adolescence that left me wanting to know more, to travel more with his characters; I felt connected to them as they opened my eyes to new forms of chaos.
May 5, 2014
Stunningly good. Lyle Rettew will break your heart. Despite his shocking acts, this troubled boy is truly one of the most moral characters I've encountered in all of my reading life. Even as we witness the train wreck of his misguided actions, we can't help but root for him.
Speaking of trains, they are mentioned throughout the story, almost as part of the landscape itself. And Lyle wryly observes "something's going on...there's nobody driving these trains.":
"A trio of headlamps approached and the engine came into view, the tall plow peaked at its center like a falcon nose..."
But a train is a river and these rivers sweep past us all, mindless but powerful, heedless of their intent because they have none. And these trains and rivers will take us along whether we are willing or not, sometimes for the good, and in Lyle's case not so much.
The scene where Lyle commits his heinous act is chillingly executed, as good as anything the best horror writers have ever put to page for the making-your-skin-crawl factor.
The pacing is precisely executed, matching Lyle's frantic, jagged state. When sleep is needed, sleep doesn't come. Peace is an elusive thing, and Lyle's mental illness allows him to stare this reality in the face. Most of us hide from this truth; we escape into work and food and TV, into rooting for our favorite sports team, while the driverless trains and mindless rivers sweep us away. But not Lyle--he goes for it, if not for himself, then for his dead sister or her surrogate.
Does he find peace in the end? You will have to decide for yourself. I can still see Lyle out there, running from the trains. And even though I know they will catch him eventually, I want to believe they never will.
I highly recommend this one.
Speaking of trains, they are mentioned throughout the story, almost as part of the landscape itself. And Lyle wryly observes "something's going on...there's nobody driving these trains.":
"A trio of headlamps approached and the engine came into view, the tall plow peaked at its center like a falcon nose..."
But a train is a river and these rivers sweep past us all, mindless but powerful, heedless of their intent because they have none. And these trains and rivers will take us along whether we are willing or not, sometimes for the good, and in Lyle's case not so much.
The scene where Lyle commits his heinous act is chillingly executed, as good as anything the best horror writers have ever put to page for the making-your-skin-crawl factor.
The pacing is precisely executed, matching Lyle's frantic, jagged state. When sleep is needed, sleep doesn't come. Peace is an elusive thing, and Lyle's mental illness allows him to stare this reality in the face. Most of us hide from this truth; we escape into work and food and TV, into rooting for our favorite sports team, while the driverless trains and mindless rivers sweep us away. But not Lyle--he goes for it, if not for himself, then for his dead sister or her surrogate.
Does he find peace in the end? You will have to decide for yourself. I can still see Lyle out there, running from the trains. And even though I know they will catch him eventually, I want to believe they never will.
I highly recommend this one.
June 3, 2014
First the disclaimer, that Ryan Blacketter is an acquaintenance/friend who used to attend the same church I attend, and I once was his student with others in a writing class he taught.
This is his first novel and I certainly hope he'll soon have another published. I sat down to start reading this late one evening, planning to read for a few minutes before going to bed, but couldn't put it down and finished it at about 4:00 am. It's a very satisfying read.
This book belongs on the shelf with the other best novels I've read so far this year. That includes "Blindness" by Jose Saramago, "See the Child" by David Bergen, "Irma Voth" by Miriam Toews, "Sanctuary" by William Faulkner, and "The Cat's Table" by Michael Ondaatje. "Down in the River" is a novel with unusual characters. It manages to be both subtle and somber, yet without being gloomy. One review I read said that if gifts were given at Halloween, this would be a great Halloween gift. Actually it would be a great gift any time. But the Halloween analogy is not entirely correct. It's not like, Halloween 'spooky:" it's much more profound than any usual Halloween gift could be.
The characters in "Down in the River" come from troubled families and live in dark times. The mood is established by the frequent rainfall, the darkness of night in which much of the action takes place, the vivid description of the most unusual character in the novel, and the lonely whistle of distant freight trains. The question is raised as to whether anyone is actually driving the trains. Like all great novels this one has a road trip, in what is familiar territory for me, Oregon and Idaho. I strongly recommend that you pick up a copy of "Down in the River" and come along on the trip.
This is his first novel and I certainly hope he'll soon have another published. I sat down to start reading this late one evening, planning to read for a few minutes before going to bed, but couldn't put it down and finished it at about 4:00 am. It's a very satisfying read.
This book belongs on the shelf with the other best novels I've read so far this year. That includes "Blindness" by Jose Saramago, "See the Child" by David Bergen, "Irma Voth" by Miriam Toews, "Sanctuary" by William Faulkner, and "The Cat's Table" by Michael Ondaatje. "Down in the River" is a novel with unusual characters. It manages to be both subtle and somber, yet without being gloomy. One review I read said that if gifts were given at Halloween, this would be a great Halloween gift. Actually it would be a great gift any time. But the Halloween analogy is not entirely correct. It's not like, Halloween 'spooky:" it's much more profound than any usual Halloween gift could be.
The characters in "Down in the River" come from troubled families and live in dark times. The mood is established by the frequent rainfall, the darkness of night in which much of the action takes place, the vivid description of the most unusual character in the novel, and the lonely whistle of distant freight trains. The question is raised as to whether anyone is actually driving the trains. Like all great novels this one has a road trip, in what is familiar territory for me, Oregon and Idaho. I strongly recommend that you pick up a copy of "Down in the River" and come along on the trip.
September 15, 2014
I was completely enthralled by this haunting, page-turning novel. The disturbing events, the evocative landscape, and the chaos of mental disorder self-medicated by drugs and rebellion are all rendered in humanizing, beautifully-rendered realism. It's an awesome feat to make such a dark and frenzied journey accessible and even understandable. Lyle Rettew, the steadfast protagonist, is the product of tragic loss (how much more profound does loss get than the death of a twin?) and the betrayal of a sanctimonious brother, a hypocritical religious community and tentative friendships. A desperate act pushes him to the fringes of his gray northwest city, but his heart is resolute, driven by an abiding compassion for the defenseless that we also feel as the author's compassion for his characters. While Lyle's crimes maybe crimes in the narrow and cold judgment of society, he is driven by a higher law that yearns for justice in a complicated world. Authentic in every luxuriant detail, and showcasing the author's gift for compelling dialogue, this is a novel that takes the big risks and pulls them off with vigor.
February 22, 2015
2.75. I had a hard time with the disjointed dialogue and many of the seeming slips in reality/how characters tended to not react to things they should've.
April 13, 2022
In J.T. Bushnell's Poets & Writers article "The Thousand Pages," he reflects on something I said years ago: that I threw away a thousand pages of my first book, Down in the River, before I was done. Mostly he explores the writing process of his wonderful first novel, The Step Back.
“. . . Around this time a friend, Ryan Blacketter, sent me the manuscript of what would become his own first novel, Down in the River (Slant, 2014). I knew he had written only short stories until then, so I was impressed at how well built his novel was--how sturdy its foundation, how varied and efficient its architecture, how high its pinnacle. When I told him how much I admired it, he thanked me, then said, ‘I've thrown away a thousand pages, but none of them were wasted.’
“At first I thought he meant the number as hyperbole. Kill your darlings and all that. But he meant it literally, and when I understood this, my reaction surprised me. Rather than feeling intimidated by such a gargantuan number, I felt heartened. All I had to do was write a thousand pages? I might not know how to build a novel, I thought, but I knew how to put my butt in a chair and words on a page. . . The quality of Blacketter’s novel impressed me because I’d read many other first manuscripts from friends and acquaintances that were not as well built . . .”
Thanks so much J.T., and congratulations on your book.
https://www.pw.org/content/the_thousa...
“. . . Around this time a friend, Ryan Blacketter, sent me the manuscript of what would become his own first novel, Down in the River (Slant, 2014). I knew he had written only short stories until then, so I was impressed at how well built his novel was--how sturdy its foundation, how varied and efficient its architecture, how high its pinnacle. When I told him how much I admired it, he thanked me, then said, ‘I've thrown away a thousand pages, but none of them were wasted.’
“At first I thought he meant the number as hyperbole. Kill your darlings and all that. But he meant it literally, and when I understood this, my reaction surprised me. Rather than feeling intimidated by such a gargantuan number, I felt heartened. All I had to do was write a thousand pages? I might not know how to build a novel, I thought, but I knew how to put my butt in a chair and words on a page. . . The quality of Blacketter’s novel impressed me because I’d read many other first manuscripts from friends and acquaintances that were not as well built . . .”
Thanks so much J.T., and congratulations on your book.
https://www.pw.org/content/the_thousa...
Read
August 27, 2014See my review at: http://dadecariaga.blogspot.com/2014/...
February 8, 2019
This story is not just a faithful rendition of teenage turmoil, longing, fateful chance encounters, love’s confusion, grace and stupidity... but also the weird pride of never mentioning your feelings, as a mask gives you an edge, an advantage, or at least you think so, over such an enigmatic world, its rules & expectations, dysfunctional families, two-bit friends, churches & schools frozen in time; the insanely dangerous situations you can find yourself in very easily, as you want to be daring & ignore the meaning of the word “limitation”... all of that & so much more, made cristal-clear using the alchemy of Oregon’s low winter light, true-sounding dialog & descriptions of a few chosen elements in the decor, the architecture, the cold & snowy weather, the pine forests, some character’s clothes. Simply put, the grand old music of litterature working its cinematic magic in your mind’s eye, renewed. At the minimum this book should be in the Amazon sidebar “those who enjoyed this also liked...” right besides Salinger’s “Catcher...” or Stephen King’s “Stand by Me”.
February 14, 2019
Down in the River is a startling, disturbing, and ultimately entrancing novel, a fever dream that astounds and never sits still for a moment, breathlessly played out in the sad twilight between the innocence of childhood and the despair of age, life lived on the last edges of love and loyalty strained to their limits. Blacketter expands the scope of the Bildungsroman for the 21st century. This is that rare thing, a truly stunning debut.
June 10, 2020
I'm not one of the authors friends or acquaintances. I read this book because I need an Idaho author for a book challenge I'm working on. Otherwise I would have never read this book. As I read I thought of the book the outsiders. I then thought of 95 percent of my students who are on probation. He clearly is from Idaho because he captured the mentality of northern Idaho. I'm glad the part of Idaho I live in is not like that. It was kind of fun reading and knowing the places that Lyle and Rosa were at. I have had students who went to both detention centers. This book feels like it could be the story of the author but told in away that it can be considered fiction. Unlike other reviews I don't feel sorry for Lyle. Idaho is a tough place either you survive or you go mental.
April 10, 2022
Intrafamily conflict in the wake of tragedy takes an unexpected, macabre turn in Ryan Blacketter’s novel Down in the River. In a household afflicted by alcoholism, religious intolerance, and wrongheaded pharmaceutical remedies, teenage protagonist Lyle Rettew desperately seeks a way to come to terms with the death of his twin sister. This is a disturbing and profoundly human novel that I couldn’t stop reading.
October 29, 2016
Wonderful book. Very dark but funny too here and there. I found it kind of light despite the serious subject and full of depth at the same time, going back and forth like that in the narrative. The main character is a sweet kid, kind of wack yeah, but I liked the ride.
July 14, 2015
Perhaps it was how young the characters were, perhaps it was their constantly shifting decisions, or perhaps it was how they seemed blindingly self-centered, but I couldn't get into this novel. Oddly enough, the basic plot of the story--the stealing of a corpse and then being on the run--was creative and engaging, and it allowed for a lot of potential thematic development, but I couldn't engage the story on a character level. Again, the development of the setting was terrific and perhaps the novel's strength, but this wasn't enough to get me "into it."
I might also chalk up my frustration reading this book to the characters' drug use, not in the sense that I prudishly didn't want to read about it or that I morally disagreed with their choices, but rather my problem was that there seemed to be no consistency to the mental states of the characters and therefore I couldn't follow character development or change--and there did seem to be real change.
Perhaps I missed something. None of us are perfect readers, and I know I'm sure as heck not.
P.S. I really enjoyed the novel's subtle and complex dealings with religion and religious themes. There was nothing preachy about; there was nothing even straightforward about it. But it added an important and almost metaphysical layer to the novel.
I might also chalk up my frustration reading this book to the characters' drug use, not in the sense that I prudishly didn't want to read about it or that I morally disagreed with their choices, but rather my problem was that there seemed to be no consistency to the mental states of the characters and therefore I couldn't follow character development or change--and there did seem to be real change.
Perhaps I missed something. None of us are perfect readers, and I know I'm sure as heck not.
P.S. I really enjoyed the novel's subtle and complex dealings with religion and religious themes. There was nothing preachy about; there was nothing even straightforward about it. But it added an important and almost metaphysical layer to the novel.
November 7, 2016
I rarely write reviews for the books I read, I mostly just rate them and move on. So, in itself, the fact that I do so now should count for something.
It should also explain why this review might come across as a bit awkward.
To say that this book deals with dark and at times uncomfortable themes would be something of an understatement.
Without giving away too much, this is a book about regret, about loss and the way it affects people. About youthful idealism and rebellion. About acting on impulse and having to deal with the consequences. About duplicity, intolerance - mostly of the religious kind-, urban decay, moral decay, drug abuse and familial abuse.
It's also about friendship, sacrifice and about love.
It's about all these things and none of them.
It deals with deep issues while avoiding cliches and without ever getting, for lack of a better word, preachy. If you're looking for definitive moral edicts, there are none. Without them being amoral, none of the characters or their motivations are truly beyond questioning.
There is no sugarcoating to any of it, in fact it's bitter and hard to swallow at times, and therein lies that which makes it a great read.
It feels real and because of that, it draws you in from the first page and never lets go of you.
Which is why I'm here now, writing this review and why I'm recommending this book to anyone willing to listen.
It should also explain why this review might come across as a bit awkward.
To say that this book deals with dark and at times uncomfortable themes would be something of an understatement.
Without giving away too much, this is a book about regret, about loss and the way it affects people. About youthful idealism and rebellion. About acting on impulse and having to deal with the consequences. About duplicity, intolerance - mostly of the religious kind-, urban decay, moral decay, drug abuse and familial abuse.
It's also about friendship, sacrifice and about love.
It's about all these things and none of them.
It deals with deep issues while avoiding cliches and without ever getting, for lack of a better word, preachy. If you're looking for definitive moral edicts, there are none. Without them being amoral, none of the characters or their motivations are truly beyond questioning.
There is no sugarcoating to any of it, in fact it's bitter and hard to swallow at times, and therein lies that which makes it a great read.
It feels real and because of that, it draws you in from the first page and never lets go of you.
Which is why I'm here now, writing this review and why I'm recommending this book to anyone willing to listen.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews